


Gibbous.

by Listenerofshadows



Series: Howl. [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Blood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Patton Is A Good Boi, Platonic LAMP - Freeform, Remy Is A Minor Chaos Deity, The Dramatic Duo™ need to get their act together, Urban Fantasy, Virgil is still in dire need of a nap, Werewolf AU, anxiety tw, this is a sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: Virgil's encounter with three real life werewolves left him feeling half-convinced it had to be the concoction of some fervor dream. But as a former foster kid who aged out of the system with little to nothing but the clothes on his back, he has bigger things to worry about than werewolves. Like, how he was going to survive on a fast food employee's wage for starters.When his friend Remy presents him with a new job opportunity, his first gut instinct was to refuse it. And you know what they say about gut instincts...Sequel to Crescent





	1. The Manager from Hell

**Author's Note:**

> It's here at last! And a week early too! This is a part 2 in a series and you should really read the first part, Crescent, first or else you'll be really lost and confused. Massive thanks to Acantha_Echo for beta'ing this chapter for me 
> 
> I'll be updating this story once a week on Saturdays, btw! I wasn't able to upload this yesterday so you guys got it Sunday instead ^^'
> 
> Chapter Warnings: mentions of manipulation, profanity, arguing

Virgil loathed cashier duty for more reasons than one. The prevailing reason was, of course, his social anxiety. Being forced to talk to strangers for hours at a time non-stop? Gross. Virgil wasn’t good at going off-script and leisurely making small talk with the customers like his managers encouraged. He had the social skills of a potato. He groaned, and of course the sun’s rays shone through the windows at the exact spot where Virgil had to stand to take orders.

He looked longingly towards the back where food simmered in the fryers and on the grill. He preferred drive-through orders over manning the front. He didn’t have to see their faces until they reached the window to pay and retrieve their food. Though he had to admit that even food prep or cooking could be stressful during busy moments of the day. It was still better than having to interact with customers.

Normally the manager would happily place him in the back. Virgil wasn't the exactly most welcoming face of the company, though he tried his best for the job's sake. The last thing he needed was an angry customer demanding that his manager fire him. But as he was still suffering the residual effects of a cold, she had enough common sense to stick him away from direct contact with the food.

His two coworkers had the honor of manning the drive-through and fryers. Although he had a sinking suspicion they were too busy talking flirtatiously to really pay attention to the drive-through cam. He couldn’t really blame them, however. They hadn’t had a customer for over half an hour now and Virgil was about ready to fall asleep from boredom.

He didn’t even know why they had a breakfast menu. You’d think after two years of low breakfast sales they’d reconsider extending their hours to include breakfast. No, instead Virgil was forced to stand here, drumming his fingers across the counter-tops to keep himself entertained.

_ ‘It could be worse,’ _ A voice whispered, ‘ _ You could be out of a job right now.’ _

His stomach churned as he thought about the way he practically crawled into his boss’ office, tail between legs, pathetically begging for forgiveness. He thought about how big her eyes grew from faux concern as he explained himself, sans mentioning the facts Patton and company had been werewolves. He thought about how she smirked as she clasped her hands together. All she needed was a cat and she’d be the perfect picture of an evil witch.

“I hope you realize the difficult situation you placed us in when you failed to show for your shifts or call. We’ve been shorthanded for a while now, you know,” She hummed, “but you are one of our best workers, and I know you’d never do this again, right?”

“Right.” Virgil kept his eyes trained to the ground.

“Since I’m feeling gracious, I’ll rehire you but!” She held a finger up, “I’m afraid as punishment I’ll have to decrease your wages from $10 an hour to $9 an hour.  Only for a short time, dear.”

“Of course.” Virgil choked.

It’d been a few weeks since then, and she still hadn’t mentioned anything about raising his wages back to their former level. Virgil was too afraid to broach the topic himself. Virgil hated it. He could barely afford expenses as it was, now it was near impossible. He knew he wasn’t enslaved by his manager, but he might as well have been by this point.

The thought of job-hunting made his stomach queasy. He had next to no references and his manager certainly wouldn’t have pretty words to say of him to a prospective employer. The thought was stress-inducing on its own. It was just better to stay here, where at least he knew her tricks and the operations of the restaurant well.

He sighed, his mind wandering back to reflect on the situation that got him into this mess in the first place. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Patton and the others, something he took to be a good sign. He upheld his vow not to expose their existences, mainly because he had his own set of problems to worry about. He could not afford the time nor trouble for it when making sure he had enough to eat each week was on the table. Virgil also didn’t want to get Patton in trouble after he literally saved his life. Virgil considered keeping silent on the matter was the least he could do for the werewolf.

Still, the whole thing felt surreal. Perhaps it was his brain’s way of coping with the situation. It wouldn’t be the first time Virgil convinced himself traumatic events had simply been a bad nightmare. Not that alternative was any better. The basement started cycling through among his usual lineup of nightmares. He had dreams where Patton never came for him, and he was stuck in that basement forever.

“Hon, are you gonna take my order or are you just gonna keep standing there looking pretty?”

Startled, Virgil looked up to Remy staring at him over his sunglasses, giving a poor impression of an angry “Don’t make me call for your manager” suburban mom.

“I’m sorry, I thought you only kept me around for my good looks?” Virgil questioned, a grin worming its way onto his face.

Remy gasped, a hand spraying across his chest. “I can’t believe this right now. Mhmm I can’t take this sass right now, no mad’m. I’ll take my business elsewhere!”

Virgil contained a laugh as he watched Remy pivot backwards, taking a few steps towards the door before returning back to the cash register.

“Changed your mind?”

“The thought of leaving you to suffer in my absence is too painful for me to bear.”

“Right,” Virgil shook his head, “the usual?”

“The usual, of course.”

“Eff you, man.” He said, showing his middle finger at Remy before moving to prepare his order.

“Tsk. That is no way to treat a paying customer, no mad’m.”

“C’mon, you know I’m not a professional barista,” Virgil called over to him, “Go to Starbucks with your orders leveling on the complexity of a white girl’s.”

“But then I won’t be able to see your pretty face.” Remy smirked.

“Y’know if you really cared about seeing my pretty face on a regular basis, you shouldn’t have decided to quit.” Virgil pointed out in a teasing manner.

Truthfully, he was shocked that Remy still hung around the restaurant after he quit. Most fled the hellhole as fast as they could and didn’t spare a glance back as if they’d get cast into stone for the action. He didn’t complain though, because seeing Remy at least made his shifts bearable especially on slow ones like today.

“Well,” Remy leaned in on the counter conspiratorially, “I have a solution for that.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?”

He opened his mouth to respond when the manager walked in from the backroom, plastic smile already in place. The tension in the room grew thick. Even Virgil’s other coworkers abruptly ended their flirting, jumping back to man their positions more readily. Virgil avoided her gaze, instead choosing to focus on mixing his drink.

Remy was the only one who appeared to be nonplussed by her appearance. He kept his elbows on the front counter as he met her stare head on.

“Sup, Cathy.” Remy tilted his head up at her.

“Hello Remy, I hope you’re not here to distract my employees from working.” She said, her laughter sharp and short.

“That shouldn’t be too hard since I’m a paying customer,” Remy drawled, gesturing towards the drink that Virgil just finished producing.

“Oh! Well thank you for your patronage.” She said, her smile growing more forced.

Remy had quit on bad terms with Cathy after she tried manipulating him to work past his two weeks’ notice. Virgil theorized she’d ban him from the restaurant for good if it wasn’t for the sales he provided. She turned and walked over the other two employees to discuss something.

“Here you go,” Virgil muttered as he placed the drink on top of the counter, “that’d be $3.75.”

Remy picked up the drink, replacing it with a bag full of pennies. Virgil looked at it and then back at him.

“You are the devil.” Virgil stated, before dumping the pennies out and counting them.

“Aw, I’m not that bad sweetheart.” Remy laughed before taking a sip of his drink, “We all know who the real devil is in here.”

They both glanced towards Cathy before bursting into laughter. She glared at them, unaware of what their outburst was about but not liking it all the same. Remy ended up helping Virgil counting to make sure they were the correct amount. The two exchanged sarcastic banter amongst each other, with Cathy discreetly glancing at them occasionally. Virgil could tell by the way her lips were pursed that she was rather annoyed by it.

“So, what’s this solution you were talking about, earlier?” Virgil asked, handing the receipt over to Remy.

He didn’t respond to Virgil immediately. His eyes flickered over to Cathy as he pocketed the receipt.

“Believe me, I’d love to tell you all about it. Just…not around Cruella de Vil.” He whispered conspiratorially, “when do you get off work?”

Virgil glanced up at the clock, “In about an hour.”

“We’ll talk then, hon.” Remy winked. He went over to one of the booths and pulled out his laptop, presumably to do some homework. Although knowing Remy, he was probably slacking off by scrolling through Twitter.

Virgil rocked back on his feet, anxious with anticipation. What was this solution Remy spoke of? He knew Virgil didn’t have time for anything outside of work. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as a small flow of customers came in. They were all college students, grumpily coming in after a round of early morning classes. One of them recognized Remy and the two quickly devolved into the latest juicy gossip at the college.

Before he knew it, the hour was up. He gathered his things and clocked himself out. As he started walking towards Remy, Cathy called him back. He gritted his teeth before turning around to look at her.

“Yes?” He asked, careful to keep the frustration out of his voice.

“Would you be willing to stay an extra hour? Collin is running late, and I need all hands-on deck.”

Virgil’s nostrils flared. Collin was always running late. But because he was her cousin’s son, he got away with only a slap on his wrist for it. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, an arm was slung around his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry Cathy, but Virgil already clocked out and we got somewhere to be so, bye ciao!” Remy gave a wave with his free hand as he guided Virgil towards the entrance. Cathy stood there, silently fuming.

“Thanks.” Virgil murmured, once they made it out safely.

Remy sighed, “You need to leave, Virge. That’s a toxic relationship that no one should be entangled with, and that’s the tea.”

“I know,” Virgil rubbed the back of his head, “it’s just—easier to stay.”

Remy’s eyes softened just a tad, “Y’know the library at the university I work at—they’re in need of a new library assistant.”

“Library assistant?” Virgil’s stomach churned, “Remy I don’t know if I could do that—”

“Oh you’d be fine, trust me,” Remy interrupted, “It’s quiet, you can listen to music while you organize and reshelve books—it’s totally your thing! Plus, you’d get to work alongside me again.”

Remy elbowed him friendly. Virgil’s eyes shifted towards the ground, “I don’t—can I think on it?”

“Oh c’mon, I already filled out a job application for you and got an interview lined up for you and everything.” Remy produced a copy and flaunted it in front of him.

“You what?!” He screeched, making a grab for the paper, “Remy that’s illegal—how did you even get my address?”

“Oh hon, I have my ways,” Remy said, his smirk fading when he saw Virgil’s glare, “Okay, I may or may not have looked through employee’s records in Cathy’s office before I left Kirby’s.”

“Why?” Virgil said, the paper crinkling in his grasp.

“Because you deserve to be treated to treated like a fucking human being, Virgil,” Remy spat, “and I know you won’t leave on your own when you should. I just—look, if you don’t want to do it, that’s completely okay. But you really should leave Kirby’s.”

Virgil pressed his lips together. He hated to admit it, but Remy was right. He’d spend too much thinking about the offer, only thinking about all the possibilities where it could go wrong. To the point where he’d be convinced that his current predicament was much better than the unknown. He was already doing it.

“Fine,” He let out a breath, “when is the interview?”

“In a few hours.”

“Shit, you really waited until the last second to tell me,  didn’t you?”

“Nope, I just wasn’t going to give you too much time to think about it, no mad’m!” Remy shook his head vigorously.

“I can’t show up in this—I don’t even know if I have any nice enough clothing at my apartment!” Virgil laughed, the nerves starting to catch up with him.

“That’s why you’re coming with me for a little shopping spree with me!”

“But—”

“No buts! Let me treat yo self to some new threads!” Remy exclaiming as he tugged on Virgil’s hoodie sleeve, “besides there’s a sale going on today and I don’t want to miss it!”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one of us who finds shopping relaxing,” Virgil grumbled but willingly let his friend drag him to the nearest clothing store.

There, Remy forced him to try on half a dozen different outfits while he gave him the inside scoop on his employer who would be responsible for interviewing him.

“Not gonna lie, Lincoln can appear to be a bit of a hard-ass at first, but once you get to know him he’s a big softy. I put in a good word for you, so trust me you’re a shoe-in.”

“If you say so,” Virgil mumbled, starting to get second thoughts on it.

Really though, what was the worst that could happen? Lincoln thinking he was an idiot undeserving of the job? That wouldn’t be the first time. Virgil could handle rejection—it’s not like he’ll ever have to see the man again if he messes up. He could do this, he could do this, he  _ could do _ this—

Virgil followed after Remy into the library, attempting not to mess the collar of his new outfit. He felt almost naked in it, it certainly wasn’t something he’d normally wear. He wished he had his hoodie on, but Remy persuaded him to leave it at his dorm room for the time being.

He felt nauseous as they reached the door of the office. Remy knocked on the door before opening the door and peeking his head in.

“Hey Boss-man, Virgil’s here.”

“Thank you, Remy, you can send him in.”

The voice sent shivers down Virgil’s back. He chalked it up to nerves, as his mind raced with all the possibilities of what could go wrong. Remy stepped away from the door, gesturing for Virgil to walk inside.

_ “You got this,” _ Remy mouthed at him. Virgil rolled his eyes at him.

_ “Yeah right.” _ He mouthed back.

Taking a deep breath, he walked into the office, looking back to make sure he shut the door behind him.

“Well—isn’t this a surprise.”

Virgil stiffened. He recognized that voice. His eyes slowly looked at the figure sitting in the chair before looking down at the nameplate on the desk.  _ Logan Lincoln _ .

“Please, have a seat.” Logan gestured to the chair across from his desk. When Virgil stood frozen to the spot he added an impatient, “I insist.”

Virgil took it back. He most certainly  _ could not _ do this.


	2. The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil took a seat in the chair, his thoughts reeling out of control. He refused to look at Logan, but he didn’t need to see to feel the immerse heaviness of his stare weighing down on him. He felt suffocated by it, his respiratory system scarcely functioning. The odds of this being a coincidence were slim to none. Although his father used to joke that Fate liked to work in mysterious ways, allowing events to occur for a reason.
> 
> “I know it seems unfair, but sometimes bad things happened for a reason to strengthen us and help us grow into a better person.”
> 
> Yeah right. Virgil stopped believing that line the day his parents died in a car crash. He didn’t understand how taking the only family a 13-year-old kid had could happen for a good reason. He refused to believe the same for this situation. Fate in his eyes was a cruel puppet-master and he was sick of letting it jerk his strings around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm just...blown away by the love and attention you guys gave to the last chapter?? Thank you so much for the comments--your screams helped motivate me to write a new chapter this week ;)
> 
> Once again, thank you to Acantha_Echo for beta'ing this chapter for me! <3
> 
> Chapter Warnings: profanity, yelling, death mention

Virgil took a seat in the chair, his thoughts reeling out of control. He refused to look at Logan, but he didn’t need to see to feel the immerse heaviness of his stare weighing down on him. He felt suffocated by it, his respiratory system scarcely functioning. The odds of this being a coincidence were slim to none. Although his father used to joke that Fate liked to work in mysterious ways, allowing events to occur for a reason.

“I know it seems unfair, but sometimes bad things happened for a reason to strengthen us and help us grow into a better person.”

Yeah right. Virgil stopped believing that line the day his parents died in a car crash. He didn’t understand how taking the only family a 13-year-old kid had could happen for a good reason. He refused to believe the same for this situation. Fate in his eyes was a cruel puppet-master and he was sick of letting it jerk his strings around.

No, this couldn’t have been a coincidence. Logan must have orchestrated this to happen on purpose, which meant Remy had been in on it the whole time. No wonder he’d tried so hard to convince him to take the job interview. He should’ve known better than to think that Remy actually cared about him. He was just a broke college student trying to make by. He’d probably be desperate to do anything for money.

He dug his nails into the palms of his hands. Dammit, could anything go right for once in his pathetic life?!

“So, what, you set up this trap in the hopes of dragging me back to your basement?” Virgil growled, “Because if so, there’s no way in hell I’m going back. I’d rather die.”

“What—no,” Logan stammered, flustered at the accusation, “Believe me, this is just as much as a surprise to me as it is to you.”

“Really?” Virgil crossed his arms as he leaned back, “I’m not buying it.”

“I can’t deny that your suspicion is justifiable considering the odds of us meeting again naturally in a city with a population of a half million is infinitesimal. You never gave us your last name, so I presumed the fact that the job applicant sharing the same first name as you were only a coincidence. Although Virgil is a rather unusual name, in hindsight.” Logan rambled, “Remy told me he had a friend interested in the library assistant position and I agreed to interview his friend—which happened to be you, I suppose.”

“Does Remy know?” Virgil demanded.

“Know what?”

“You know,” Virgil held up his hands and made a clawing motion with them.

Logan cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Ah yes…that. He does happen to know that.”

“Why did you make such a damn deal out of me finding out the truth if Remy, a human, knows the truth?” Virgil gritted his teeth.

“Because Remy happens to be an…unique case.”

“Oh? And what makes him so special?”

“Remy does not belong to the human race. What he is, I won’t tell you as that’s his secret to tell and not mine.”

“Of course, he is,” Virgil gave a choked laugh, “and my current boss is the devil.”

“Do you question the validity of my words?” Logan asked, sounding scandalized.

“Hell, he might as well be, at this point,” Virgil shook his head, “is everyone I’ve come into contact with secretly a paranormal being of some sort?!”

“There are more of us out there than you humans give us credit for,” Logan adjusted his glasses, “so it is a possibility.”

“Thanks for adding onto my existential crisis,” Virgil sarcastically remarked, rubbing at his eyelids both out of frustration and a lack of sleep. “Seriously though, am I your prisoner again?”

Logan studied him for a moment, his hand resting underneath his chin. All he needed was a deerstalker hat and an old-fashioned pipe and he’d look like Sherlock Holmes trying to solve his latest case.

“No…you are not. I won’t stop you from leaving, but I think it might be beneficial for both of us to discuss what happened.” Logan swallowed, guiltily averting his gaze.

“You mean it?” Virgil asked, “you won’t try to stop me or anything.”

“Yes, of course.”

Virgil shifted in his seat, conflicted. On one hand, his sense of self-preservation screamed at him to run while he still could. The last thing he wanted was to experience the dark depths of that basement again. But on the other hand, the pessimist in him reminded Virgil that ultimately everything including his existence was meaningless and he’d might as well just stay for the sake of curiosity at this point.

“I’ll stay, but I want to start off by saying sticking me in the basement was a shitty thing to do.” Virgil huffed.

“I had no way of trusting you’d hold to your words,” Logan countered, although his heart wasn’t in it, “I didn’t…have any other choice. I had no idea that Roman planned on leaving you in the complete dark like that. Sensory deprivation can cause severe trauma in humans and for that I am sorry.”

“Apology not accepted.”

“Understood,” Logan said without skipping a beat, “I must admit, I misjudged your character, seeing as I am sitting before you and not dead or otherwise in a detainment center.”

“Wait, what?”

Logan gave him a look, “Surely you know what happens to beings like us whose existence is discovered by the government?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil mulled over his words, “The Government claims that they only detain or kill paranormal folk who are dangerous and leave the rest alone—but I’m guessing that’s not true, is it?”

Logan’s eyes lit up, “Yes! You are correct. Any and all paranormal folk are considered diseased humans who are a danger to themselves and others by the Government. When would you say was the last paranormal sighting in the City reported?”

“Man, I don’t know, five or six years ago? It was all over the news,” Virgil murmured, “I, uh, listen to conspiracy theories, though, and some theorists claim there’s a lot of sightings that go unreported—I always took them with a grain of salt until now.”

Logan leaned forward, “Had you reported us, Virgil, you would’ve been paid a hefty sum to keep quiet. It’s standard procedure to try to keep detainments to be covert as possible as to not alarm the general public. Whether it means as paying off as many people as possible or silencing them through…other unpleasant ways.”

Virgil felt pressure against his esophagus, as if he was going to throw up his lunch from earlier. He’d never understood why his parents taught him to treat paranormal folk with respect when everything else in the world taught him he should scream and run. While he usually approached everything with a skeptic approach, it was hard to counter what he thought was cold hard fact.

Before, everything he was taught about paranormal folk was that that they were monsters who couldn’t control their impulses to feed on human flesh. But after interacting with Patton and the others, it wasn’t anything like that.

They were…well human wasn’t the right word. But they were people too—people with thoughts and emotions who happened to possess different physical characteristics. Sure, some of them committed atrocious acts. But so, had many humans.

“You seem to know a lot about government regulation.” Virgil commented at last.

“Being one of the aforementioned paranormal folk, I should hope so,” Logan coughed, adjusting his tie, “but I hope you now realize why I took such precautions.”

Virgil looked at him in a new light, finding a kindred spirit. Logan, for all his methodical trappings, was just as capable of being worried and fearful as Virgil was. He understood now why Logan wanted him out of the house soon as possible. He was afraid of Virgil literally sending them to their deaths.

After all, he had no way of knowing if Virgil’s views differed from the general populace or not.

“I understand,” Virgil murmured, averting his eyes away, “I still don’t think keeping me captive was the greatest way to convince me you weren’t going to eat me.”

“Yes, well, I must admit upon looking back I may have panicked.” Logan cleared his throat awkwardly, “and I don’t expect any forgiveness from you. Frankly, I’m surprised after my actions you didn’t report us.”

“It’s like what I told you before. My life is hell enough on its own. No way was I gonna take time out of my day to get grilled by law enforcement within an inch of my life,” Virgil paused before softly adding on, “besides, I owe Patton my life. If I told on you, he’d get in trouble as well.”

He jerked his head up at Logan, “How is Patton? Is he still with you guys?”

“I—yes of course,” Logan frowned, “He is alright. I must admit neither Roman nor I were pleased when we found out. But it’d take more than that to break us apart. I suppose you could say that I have a life debt of my own to Patton.”

A life debt, huh? He wondered what Patton had done for Logan. Virgil wasn’t one to pry, however, especially when it looked like Logan didn’t look interested in discussing it further.

“I’m glad to hear that. Roman still hates my guts?”

Logan chuckled a bit, “Oh trust me, he hates every humans’ guts. He has allowed his perceptions of humans be understandably clouded by…bad experiences with them.”

“And what about you?” Virgil blurted out, “Do you think humans are all evil?”

Something dark shifted across Logan’s face before he responded.

“I must admit you’ve shifted my perspectives a bit, though I doubt most humans would have reacted the same way you did. I do believe not all humans are evil, but it is almost impossible to expect a whole society to change after centuries of internalized hatred. Patton disagrees with me. He thinks it’s possible for humans and paranormal folk alike to live in peace someday.”

“It’s a nice thought, even if it’s unrealistic,” Virgil muttered.

“I agree.”

The two sat in contemplative silence, neither knowing what else to say. Virgil certainly wasn’t going to be the first one to speak up, which it meant it was left to Logan to break the silence.

“I do have one question to ask you.”

“And that is?”

“Are you still interested in pursuing the library assistant position?”

Virgil blinked. He’d nearly forgotten the entire purpose of his being here was for a job interview.

“Are you serious?” He asked.

“Of course. I’m always serious. Serious people wear neckties.” Logan said, gesturing towards his blue necktie.

Virgil couldn’t tell if that was a witty remark or not.

“I just thought that kinda went out the door the moment you realized it was me.”

“Regardless, I am still in need of a library assistant,” Logan said, “the question is if you are in need of a job?”

“Is this your way of asking me if I want the job?”

“I believe it is,” Logan smirked.

“But I didn’t even do an actual job interview with you yet!” Virgil protested.

“True, this is a highly unusual situation, but I think our discussion has shown you to be a man of both integrity and intelligence, two things that I value greatly,” Logan hesitated, “you are more than welcome to decline, of course, but I am willing to pay more than what your current employer is offering you.”

“That is tempting,” Virgil leaned back in his chair, “still, are you sure you don’t have any ulterior motives?”

“If you are hinting at the possibility of myself dragging you back to my basement, then no I do not,” Logan said, “although Patton would be upset if he found out I didn’t at least try to offer you a job.”

Virgil fidgeted in his chair. Was it insane that he was seriously considering the offer? Trading in his manager from hell for a boss that once held him captive in a basement for a day? In the end, it came down to better pay. Because dammit he really needed the money. The fact that he’d be working with Remy again was just an added bonus.

“Alright, I accept,” Virgil wearily stood up, reaching his hand out. Logan’s lips stretched into a thin smile as he stood up as well to shake hands.

“Excellent, when can you start?”


	3. Sticking it up to the Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil’s first impulse was to apologize and beg for forgiveness. But as he opened his mouth to do just that, he hesitated. For almost two years he put up with Cathy. Because it was safe. Because it was all he knew. Because she twisted him into thinking this was the only job he was capable of working.
> 
> Sure, he hadn’t even started his position at the library yet. Maybe he would screw it up, like everything else in his life. But for once, he had an opportunity outside of Kirby’s Burgers. He wasn’t stuck here. He no longer had to put up with Cathy’s tactics just to survive.
> 
> He drew a shaky breath. “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! This chapter is a bit longer than the others which you can blame my beta Acantha_Echo for. They've been a great help in not only catching my grammar mistakes but also being my confident in discussing ideas for this AU. Without them, the first 1.4k of this chapter would have been only a handful of paragraphs ^^'
> 
> (Psst! they're also a wonderful writer of their own merit and you should totally check out their works!)

Virgil was very tempted to walk into Kirby’s Burgers, throw his employee hat on the ground and scream in Cathy’s face that he quit all while flipping her off. As satisfying as just merely fantasizing that scenario was, he still needed the money he’d receive for working his last two weeks. So he returned, despite Remy trying to convince him otherwise. In the end, he wished he would’ve gone with his gut reaction, or listened to Remy’s advice and just never returned at all.

When Cathy saw his two-week notice, she called him in the middle of a rush to discuss it.

“I need three Number Four meals with an extra side of fries!”

“On it!” Virgil responded. He turned to grab the food when he heard someone clear their throat impatiently.

“Virgil, I need to speak with you.” Cathy said, plastic smile firmly held in place.

He gritted his teeth, “Alright, let me just finish this rush--”

“Oh, I’m sure Apollo has it handled, right?” She said. Virgil followed her gaze to see his coworker struggling to put together multiple orders.

“Yeah, _definitely_ ,” Apollo called out sarcastically.

“Great!” Cathy clasped her hands together, “come along Virgil.”

“Sorry.” Virgil murmured to Apollo before walking after Cathy. As soon as he crossed the threshold, a paper was shoved in front of his face.

“What is this?” She hissed.

“M-my two week notice.” Virgil stammered, unconsciously taking a step out of fright.

“You can’t quit so close to the end of the month--I was counting on you being here for September!” She crumpled the two-weeks notice, “you can’t do this to me, Virgil. Not after I gave you a second chance.”

Virgil’s first impulse was to apologize and beg for forgiveness. But as he opened his mouth to do just that, he hesitated. For almost two years he put up with Cathy. Because it was safe. Because it was all he knew. Because she twisted him into thinking this was the only job he was capable of working.

Sure, he hadn’t even started his position at the library yet. Maybe he would screw it up, like everything else in his life. But for once, he had an opportunity outside of Kirby’s Burgers. He wasn’t stuck here. He no longer had to put up with Cathy’s tactics just to survive.

He drew a shaky breath. “No.”

“What did you say!?” Cathy exclaimed in a mixture of shock and rage. Virgil flinched.

“I--I said no,” He bit his lips, “I’m not doing this anymore. I’m done.”

He stalked out of the office, making a beeline to where his hoodie hung on a coat rack. He quickly threw it on, shoving his trembling hands into the pocket. Meanwhile Cathy trailed after him, demanding him to halt.

“Virgil, stop!”

Virgil ignored her, bursting open the door leading to the Front. Customers and coworkers alike ceased motion as they watched him calmly stride through as a furious Cathy followed quickly behind him. He felt their intense, inquisitive gazes and regretted his decision to storm out the front in a calm rage.

But he couldn’t take it back now. He snatched two hamburgers from the warmer racks, right in front of Apollo’s nose. She screamed at the others to stop him, but they all stood in shock. Some of them hid grins as Virgil hopped over the counter, making his way towards the front door.

Cathy managed to grab his arm just as he reached the door.

“Virgil stop this very instant or I’ll--”

“Or you’ll do what?” Virgil snapped, swiveling to look back at her, “fire me?”

“No, worse than that,” She pursed her lips before lowering her voice, “I’ll tell all my fellow business-owner contacts about what a terrible employee you are. And believe me, you won’t ever be able to find work elsewhere unless you come back to the office with me right now.”

The Virgil from a month ago would’ve been quaking in his shoes at this threat. The present Virgil merely laughed in her face.

Even if she had enough influence among other shop owners, it didn’t matter in the end. For one, he was not pursuing a job in neither the fast food nor the department store industries. For two, he doubted Logan would put up with her. Admittedly he hadn’t known Logan for long, but he didn’t seem the type to be easily intimidated. Rather, everyone else in the room was intimidated by _him_.

Cathy let go of his arm, her eyebrows furrowed  as she tried to decipher how her intimidation tactic failed. Her lips moved to form words, but Virgil didn’t bother sticking around to hear what she had to say.

He ran out to the streets, afraid she’d call the cops on him for stealing two hamburgers. He didn’t even know why he took them. He saw the burgers and snatched them up, knowing it’d make her mad. He wondered if he just ruined his chances at working at the library. Would he go to for jail like Jean Valjean?

Frantic, he raced towards Remy’s dorm. He hadn’t ran this much in a long time, but the rising realization of what he’d just done caused him to push through the pain. He ran to only person who’d be willing to hide a fugitive from the law; Remy.

He pounded on Remy’s dorm door, taking long ragged breaths from the run he just completed. Despite it being two o’clock in the afternoon, the door was opened by a very sleepy looking Remy.

“Wha--”

“Remy, you gotta hide me!” Virgil blurted out, darting in underneath the crook of Remy’s arm.

“Virgil--”

“Take these! Destroy the evidence--if they come looking for me, tell them that I’m, um, dead!” Virgil shoved the hamburgers still in their wrappers into Remy’s hands. Before he could protest, Virgil scrambled into his bedroom closet.

He immediately regretted the decision to enter a dark enclosed environment. The basement experience still haunted his mind after all. But he’d be safe here, among Remy’s dirty laundry, for the time being.

Someone knocked on the door and Virgil jumped, before realizing it was probably just Remy.

“Hey Virge, mind telling what’s got you so freaked?” He asked before adding, “you can stay in there if you want.”

Virgil sighed. Remy deserved to know the truth; it was his dorm that Virgil was hiding at. Cautiously, he opened the door and poked his head out.

“I’m gonna go to jail because I stole those hamburgers from Kirby’s.”

There was a pause in which Remy processed the information. Then he cackled. Virgil almost slunk back into the closet out of humiliation.

“No, wait, I’m sorry for laughing,” Remy said, attempting to stifle his residual laughter, “it’s just--you won’t go to jail for stealing food, Virgil. You’re fine.”

“Are you sure?” Virgil looked up at him warily.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Remy held out a hand towards him, “now, please spill the tea. I’m dying to know how you ended up stealing two hamburgers from the she-devil.”

Virgil allowed himself to be hoisted onto his feet and two sat on top of Remy’s half-made bed. There Virgil regaled him with the story, to which Remy cackled in further delight.

“Oh, man, I wish I could’ve been there to see the look on her face!” Remy smirked, “you know what this calls for?”

“What?”

“A celebration!” He cried out, dragging Virgil out the door despite his protests. Remy hummed “Ding dong the Witch is dead” underneath his breath as they headed towards the nearest Starbucks.

He refused to allow Virgil to pay for his drink, insisting that he deserved it.

“You stuck it up to the man!” Remy paused, “er, woman. You stuck it to the woman, and you earned this!”

They sat in the corner of the Starbucks, a bag of pastries shared between the two. Virgil quietly sipped on his drink as Remy rattled on about the latest gossip at the college. He thought about what Logan had said about Remy being a paranormal being. As much as he wanted to broach the topic with him, right now didn’t feel like the proper time. He had enough excitement for today, thank you very much.

“Hey Remy?” He asked, interrupting his rant.

“And then--” Remy stopped mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement.

“Thank you, for everything. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be there. And maybe the library thing won’t work out. But I think I’d rather live on the streets than work there another day.”

“You just needed a little push, that’s all, the rest was all you,” Remy shrugged, biting into a pastry, “but trust me. I think you’ll find that working in the library will be a much more relaxing environment.”

-

Remy was right; the library _was_ a much more relaxing environment. The fact that Virgil had the power to tell others to essentially shut up pleased him greatly. At first, he was too anxious to even approach a patron if they were speaking too loudly, even though it was his job. But as he grew much accustomed to the place, he overcame that fear. Now he approached a group of rowdy college students without a second thought.

While he still had to interact with people, it was much less stressful. Who knew that hungry people tended to be more upset and angry than normal people? Sure, there was the occasional stressed college student who was upset to discover that the book they needed wasn’t currently at the Library. But for the most part, people were understanding of things like that. Especially if they waited until the last day that assignment was due.

Organizing and putting books back on the shelves tended to be a lot less dangerous than dealing with hot fryers. Although there was that one time he nearly scared Logan half to death when he accidentally fell off a bookshelf. His short height often presented problems when putting books away on higher shelves. While step stools did indeed exist, Virgil was often too impatient to go and search the library for one. So he climbed the shelves like a damn monkey to reach the higher shelves.

 After checking to make sure he didn’t suffer any major injuries, Logan led him into his office. At first, Virgil was afraid that this was the moment that Logan would start verbally assaulting him for being stupid enough to climb the shelves. Instead, Logan praised his work ethic and asked Virgil not to climb the shelves out of a concern for his safety. 

Logan even made sure he had his own personalized step stool after that incident. It was slightly embarrassing, but he was mostly surprised that Logan cared enough about his safety to get him one. His step stool was purple and little thunderstorm clouds with lightning bolts were painted on top of it by Remy. When Virgil questioned him on it, Remy stated he thought it suited his emo personality. As much as Virgil pretended to loathe it, both Remy and Logan knew he secretly appreciated it.

Virgil happened to be standing on the top of his step stool to put away a book one day when a voice gasped.

“Virgil is that you?!”

Virgil looked back to see Patton standing there, clutching a copy of the original Winnie the Pooh novel.  His eyes widened comically behind his glasses as his mouth hung open in shock. He seemed surprised to see Virgil here. He’d figure that Logan would’ve told him by now.

“Sup, Patton.” He said, putting the book away before hopping off the step stool to greet him.

“How—why—oh! I’m just glad to see you’re doing alright kiddo!” Patton stepped closer before stopping, “is it alright if I hug you?”

“Um, sure—oof!”

Patton drew him into a big old bear hug, as if afraid that Virgil would melt away in his grasp. Virgil for his part awkwardly patted him on the back.

“Now when you did start working here?” Patton asked at last as he withdrew from the embrace.

“Like, a month?” Virgil scratched the back of his head, “I’m guessing Logan never told you?”

“No he didn’t!” Patton pursued his lips, “C’mon Virge, let’s confront him together.”

Fortunately, that was the last book Virgil had to put away, as it seemed Patton wasn’t going waste a single moment to speak with Logan. He barely at time to snatch up his step stool before he ran to catch up with Patton, who was storming straight towards Logan’s office.

Patton didn’t even pause to knock.

“Logan!” He called out as he burst into the room. Logan flinched at the outburst, his coffee splashing onto the carpet from his cup. Virgil followed meekly in his wake, shooting Logan a sympathetic glance.

“Patton! Please, what have I said about knocking…” His voice trailed off when he realized that Virgil was standing in the same room as Patton, “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’ is right buddy,” Patton said, frowning, “Logan, why didn’t you tell me that Virgil started working at the library?”

“Why are you here?” Logan asked instead of answering the question.

“I was in the city, and I’d thought I would pop in and see if you’d like to grab lunch with me,” Patton sighed, “now can you answer my question, Lo?”

Logan sat there, his eyes darting from side to side as if processing a complicated math formula. Finally, he coughed, looking up at Patton once more.

“As you know, Patton, I like to keep my work life separate from my personal life. I doubt you’d understand my reasoning but,” He adjusted his glasses, “I thought it’d be best if I kept quiet about Virgil to you and Roman—considering what happened last time. Roman would not take well to the news and I know you’d struggle with keeping it a secret.”

“Logan, you can be really dumb for someone so smart at times.” Patton exhaled, “Yes Roman won’t be happy, but things are different this time around! At least…that’s true, right Virgil?”

He nudged Virgil who was still reeling from the fact that Patton called Logan out on his bs. He didn’t expect it from sweet, optimistic Patton. It appeared Patton was a lot tougher than he took him for. Which, considering he fought off a mugger to save Virgil’s life really wasn’t a surprise in hindsight. It appeared that one Tumblr post about the kindest people being the ones you should fear had some merit to it.

“Um yeah,” He responded once he gathered his thoughts, “We talked things out.”

“Really?” Patton pressed. He gazed searchingly at Virgil, seeking reconfirmation. There was a wildness in his eyes, that let Virgil know if Logan had manipulated or harmed Virgil in any way he wouldn’t hesitate to tear him apart. He appreciated the sentiment, but the look sent shivers down his spine.

“Yes. I think Logan has apologized nearly a hundred times by now.” Virgil said, making sure he made direct eye contact with Patton as he spoke.

“I think that’s a bit of a hyperbolic statement,” Logan inputted, as he stared into the contents of his coffee mug.

“Okay, I’m happy to hear that,” Patton breathed, the tension lessening from his shoulders. He turned to face Logan once more, “Were you ever planning on telling me, Lo?”

“No,” Logan confessed, “I am...sorry, Patton.”

“I forgive you, Logan.” Patton sighed before addressing Virgil, “Would you like to join us for lunch?”

“You mean it?” Virgil asked before pausing, “Wait. Can I even do that?”

He directed the question towards Logan.

“It’ll be alright. It’s the middle of the week so we should have enough coverage if you’d like to join us.”

Logan worded in a way that implied like he had a choice in the matter. Patton’s pleading look made it certain that he’d be dismayed if Virgil declined the offer. He’d hate to see Patton be disappointed with him, although he knew the man would be understanding.

“Sure.” Virgil relented, unable to hide his smile when he saw Patton’s face brighten in excitement.

“Awesome! I know just the place to go for lunch!” Patton exclaimed.

Logan raised an eyebrow, “Are you referring to T—”

“Shhh!” Patton hushed, “I want it to be a surprise!”

“A surprise?” Virgil questioned hesitatingly. He wasn’t very fond of surprises. The anticipation made him antsy and anxious.

“It’s a good surprise, I promise you’ll enjoy it!” Patton said catching sight of his face, “If not, why I’ll eat my hat!”

“You don’t have a hat, Patton.” Logan pointed out.

“Then I’ll eat my shoe then!”  He grinned.

“Alright, I’ll hold you to it,” Virgil snorted.

After Patton checked out his Winnie the Pooh book out, they headed outside. The mystery restaurant they were going to was only a few blocks down from the library. Logan stated it was best for them to walk, not only because of the horrid traffic but for exercise as well. Logan and Patton led the way, plowing a path for Virgil to follow behind, something he gratefully appreciated. As he didn’t have to scream and push his way through the crowds.

They took a left and there at the corner of the block was a cutesy little place called Piece of Cake Bakery and Café. The pastel aesthetic and cheery vibes caused Virgil to immediately see why Patton adored the place. Virgil could tell that Patton visited the place on a regular basis by how he chatted with the owner like they were old friends.

Thomas, the owner, appeared to in his late-twenties dressed in attire that matched the pink and blue tones of his establishment. His hair was dyed a vibrant purple and he had dimples whenever he smiled or laughed. He shared the same sense of humor as Patton’s—probably why the two got along so well.

He couldn’t chat long after delivering their food to their table as a rush occurred and he had to jump back in to help out his employees.

Somewhere in their conversation, Patton managed to slip in a Star Wars pun which lead into a discussion between Patton and Logan about the Last Jedi. Virgil was startled to find out that apparently the two were old enough to have attended the original movies when they first came out.

As if Virgil didn’t feel like a child sitting among normal adults, he suddenly felt like a toddler in their presences.

“Logan, you have to admit the Porgs were adorable though!”

“I found them to be annoying and too pushed in the audiences’ faces.”

“What about you Virgil?” Patton asked, after noticing Virgil had been absent from the conversation, “What do you think about the Porgs?”

“Oh well, I don’t really have an opinion,” Virgil admitted sheepishly, “I’ve never actually seen any of the Star Wars movies.”

“You’ve never seen Star Wars?” Patton gasped loudly, “we have to fix that with a movie night!”

“What?” Virgil asked.

“Patton, I don’t know that’s a good idea—” Logan began before being cut off by Patton

“Why not?” Patton protested, the tone in his voice shifting to a sharper edge, “I’d think it’d be a fun idea!”

Logan’s lips pressed into a fine line as he looked out through the window at the pedestrians walking past the café. It was in this moment that Virgil realized that Patton still hadn’t completely forgiven Logan for what happened. For the lack of a better expression, the tension in the room was thick enough to be cut by a butter knife.

As much as Virgil hated picking sides in an argument, he was left with no other choice.

“I think a movie night would be great, Patton.” He said, clearing his throat.

Patton shot a triumphant grin to Logan, who scowled. As Patton started to ramble on excitedly about the details of a movie night, Virgil realized with a start he forgot one nagging little problem about the whole thing; Roman.


	4. Roman makes an Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curse Virgil’s damn anxiety that prevented him from backing out of social events. He couldn’t just back out now after he agreed to do a movie night. Not when that could lead to Patton and Logan hating him!
> 
> Okay, he knew thoughts like that were irrational, but they tended to drown out all of Virgil’s three remaining rational brain cells. It was better to error on the side of precaution, then to discover later that it could’ve been a problem that was easily preventable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late posting, I promise next week will be Saturdays as usual. This is probably my favorite chapter, and it's a long one, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> (also yes, that chapter title is stolen from a musical, because I am unoriginal and lazy)
> 
> As always, thank you to the wonderful Acantha_Echo for beta'ing this chapter <3
> 
> Warnings: Crying, arguing, yelling, panic attack

Curse Virgil’s damn anxiety that prevented him from backing out of social events. He couldn’t just back out now after he agreed to do a movie night. Not when that could lead to Patton and Logan hating him!

Okay, he knew thoughts like that were irrational, but they tended to drown out all of Virgil’s three remaining rational brain cells. It was better to error on the side of precaution, then to discover later that it could’ve been a problem that was easily preventable.

To their credit, both of them did recognize his concerns about Roman. Each of them assured him that Roman wouldn’t try anything on their watch. That brought little comfort to him, because what if Roman managed to corner him all alone? While Logan had been the one to decide to throw Virgil in the basement, Roman had been the one to carry it out, and he hadn’t been gentle in the regard either.

Virgil kicked and screamed all the way there, doing his best to make it difficult for Roman. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight. At one point, he even dared to bite Roman, which the other hadn’t appreciated in the slightest. His struggle only irritated Roman further, who practically tossed him into the dark depths of the basement and then slammed the door shut before Virgil could get his bearings.

He still didn’t regret causing a ruckus, despite his impending dread about seeing Roman face to face again.

The days up to the movie night seemed to painfully crawl by. Remy had several tests due that week, and so when he wasn’t working he was off being a diligent student. Diligent and Remy belonging to the same sentence seemed like an oxymoron. Virgil always thought of Remy being one of those people who attended college for the party scene. But it seemed that despite his eccentric, nonchalant personality, he attempted to take his studies seriously. It was something Remy downplayed, not wanting to be labelled as a nerd.

Which of course, Virgil took full advantage of that and started calling him a nerd much to his chagrin.

But because of Remy’s absence, it meant Virgil was left to himself and his own thoughts. He mostly took the time to scroll through Tumblr and write shitty fanfiction. Ever since he started working at the library, he had a much more stable schedule without crazy shifts. This meant he had more time to do things besides sleeping and starving off sicknesses. Damn his weak immune system.

He took this time to reawaken his mediocre writing skills, posting small drabbles online. Thankfully the few comments his work received were positive. Although, he always wondered if they were simply being nice and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. One or two told him he should continue his ideas past an one-shot, but he had no plans on acting on that.

No way did he want the pressure of writing a multi-chapter fic, with readers constantly protesting for new updates. It’d send his anxiety haywire. He was having enough trouble as it was writing the short fics he currently put out.

But eventually, the fated day arrived, and it was way too late at this point to back out now. He’d hitched a ride with Logan after work to their house, as it was a bit of a long walk. He still didn’t understand how Patton managed it or enjoyed it for that matter.

He’d still planned on walking there until Logan offered him a ride there. He tried declining it, but Logan refused.

“Nonsense,” Logan said, “It’d be illogical to force you to walk when I, the host, am headed to the location the same time as you are.”

Virgil couldn’t argue against that logic. He didn’t tell Logan the real reason behind his reluctance. He’d never been good around cars after what happened with his parents. He knew his fears were mostly unfounded. But it didn’t stop him from flinching when another car drifted a tad too close or swerved into a lane without warning. 

He tried hiding his anxiety the best he could. He tapped his foot against the floor of the car. He rubbed his fingers against the cracked surface of his phone in an attempt to ground himself. It helped that Logan was an overly cautious driver. He couldn’t tell if that was his natural inclination or if Logan caught onto his nervousness.

If he did, he probably assumed Virgil was anxious about the movie night. It was a silent ride from the library to the house, to which Virgil appreciated. Patton would’ve rambled the whole ride there and Virgil wasn’t sure if he could’ve handled that.

Logan had gotten a call right when they entered the driveway, so he gestured for Virgil to go in without him. Virgil was careful to shut his door properly after he exited. As he walked up the pathway, he took time to admire the exterior of the house. Not to stall for time, although there was that, but because he hadn’t given it much thought at the time of his escape the first time he was here.

Like a lot of the buildings on the outskirts of  the city, it was an older, most established home. Virgil didn’t know much about architecture, but it looked like it was built around the 1920s. The front of the home was square-shaped with a triangular rooftop—almost like a more elegant, classy version of a child’s drawing of a house. It was painted a light blue color, something he suspected was Patton’s doing. Rose bushes bloomed in the front flower beds, something that was probably also Patton’s doing.

As he walked up the steps to the porch, something black flashed past him. Startled, Virgil glanced up at the tree to see a pair of beady eyes staring up at him. Several pairs in fact, all belonging to ravens. He swore they looked down at him with suspicion and disdain. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Patton and the others were witches with raven familiars. Swallowing, he continued up the steps to the porch. It was a small porch, but it was big enough for the small bench that sat to the left of the door.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out and knocked on the door. He heard footsteps stomp down from the stairs as someone rushed to answer the door.

Please be Patton, please be Patton, please be Patton—dammit!

The door swung open and lo and behold it was Roman. Virgil probably jinxed himself by wishing it was Patton. The two stared at each other for one long moment. Then without warning he slammed the door in Virgil’s face. Which, he supposed was better than getting his face mauled off. 

Hushed murmuring erupted behind the door, too soft for Virgil to make out any words. Then the door opened again.

“Hi Virgil!” Patton said, as if the confrontation between Roman and him never took place, “it’s good to see you! Where’s Logan at?”

“Hey,” Virgil gave an awkward wave as he shuffled into the house, “He’s in the car—I think he’s on the phone with somebody about the library.”

“Oh! We’ll wait for him before we start then!” Patton announced. He started to jabber about the movie, but something stole Virgil’s attention away from Patton.

Behind Patton’s left shoulder, Roman skulked on the couch. He pointed two fingers up at his eyes and then back at Virgil—the universal sign for “I’m watching you.”

Virgil smirked, hoping to hide the panic swelling in his chest. It was like he was on a rollercoaster right before the plunge, where he suddenly realized he wanted off of it, but there was no escape. He had to suffer the rollercoaster ride until it was over, and hopefully he didn’t die before then.

He stared at Roman’s eyes and tried not to remember how they looked down at him in glee before plunging him in darkness.

While they waited for Logan, they moved into the kitchen where Patton let Virgil try one of his freshly baked cookies. He took a bite and almost spat it out because of how salty it was. He suffered through it, for Patton’s sake and because he didn’t want to risk getting murdered by Roman. Something told him he wouldn’t take it well if he hurt Patton’s feelings.

“It’s uh good, Patton.” Virgil smiled, trying to keep his eyes from watering.

“Good? It’s absolutely stupendous!” Roman beamed, clearly trying to one-up Virgil.

“Stupendous?” Virgil questioned, eyebrows raised, “who says stupendous?”

Roman let out a huff, indignant. Before he could go off on a rant, Patton jumped in to thank the two for their compliments. He quickly launched into an explanation of how he prepared the cookies. It was a glaringly obvious attempt to prevent them to arguing further, but Virgil was honestly thankful for it.

Finally, Logan arrived at last, and they were able to start the movie. Good, Virgil thought. The sooner they watched it, the sooner he could leave. Virgil sat on an armchair, the furthest away from Roman. Logan and Patton sat on the couch, purposefully maneuvering themselves between the two. 

They started with Star Wars Episode 4 which seemed a bit redundant in Virgil’s mind. Patton had wanted to go with Episode 1 but Logan insisted on starting with A New Hope as it came out before A Phantom Menace, and would give Virgil a better picture of what Star Wars was like.

“You just don’t like Jar Jar Binks,” Patton lightheartedly teased, to which Logan made a disgruntled sound.

Virgil thought he could’ve enjoyed the movie, if it wasn’t for the fact he was watching it in the same room as Roman. It was towards the end of the movie when Han and Luke were awarded medals for their valor where the last straw finally broke the camel’s back occurred.

Patton had brought up the fact that since Disney owned Star Wars now, didn’t that technically make Leia a Disney Princess? Something Roman readily agreed on, proclaiming his love for the princesses and Disney in general.

Virgil snorted.

“What, are you some Disney hater?” Roman accused.

“No?” Virgil blinked, taken back by his aggression, “I too happen to be a Disney fan.”

From then on, things quickly spiraled into a heated debate about the true meanings of Disney movies. Logan tried unsuccessfully to meditate while Patton attempted to get the two to move onto a different topic. Sufficient to say, it did not well.

“What about Bambi?”

“Man is dangerous.”

“Pocahontas?”

“ _ White _ Man is dangerous.”

“Sleeping Beauty!?”

“Well, now we’re just back to the lack of consent thing.”

“IT WAS TO LIFT A CURSE!” Roman roared, shooting up from his seat like a rocket.

Virgil flinched. This was a bad idea he just knew it he’s going to be shoved back into the basement he’s going to die he’s going to die--

“--gil?” Something pressed against his shoulder, and it jolted him like a lightning strike had struck him. He looked up to see Patton staring down at him in concern. Patton held out his arms  and Virgil gladly fell into them, his breathing erratic.

“I--I can’t, I can’t breathe--” He gasped, “I can’t breathe!”

 “Shh, shh it’s alright, take deep breaths,” Patton reassured, loosening his grip a bit.

“I can’t--” Another hand pressed against Virgil’s back, firm and comforting. Logan. 

He led Virgil through the same breathing technique after the nightmare Virgil had his first night during stay at the home almost two months ago. Virgil didn’t get it in the first few tries, but Logan patiently led him through it until his breathing resumed to normal. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Roman demanded. His voice quivered, and Virgil couldn’t be certain if it was out of rage, disgust or fear or maybe even all three.

Logan growled, “What’s wrong with him is that you thought it was a good idea--”

Patton reached out and placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder, stopping him.

“I think we should end the Disney debate for now, Roman.” Patton said, his voice firm and lacking its usual kindness.

“I didn’t--” Roman shook his head before huffing, “I’m--I’m going to bed.” 

He took one last look at Virgil before storming upstairs.

“Sweet dreams! Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Patton called out.

Roman slammed his door shut in reply, it’s harsh clamor echoing in the silence.

“I’m really sorry, Virgil,” Patton murmured, “I’d really thought things would go better.”

“It’s not your fault,” Virgil bit his lips, “It’s mine.”

Patton made distressed noises, hugging Virgil even tighter. He glanced over to Logan for help. He was too upset that Virgil believed it was his fault that he couldn’t make words come out. Fortunately Logan came to the rescue.

“”Why do you think that?” Logan asked slowly.

“I,” Virgil paused, the words caught in throat. No one ever questioned him whenever he admitted it was his fault before. They always accepted it, agreed with him even. Sometimes they had a few other things to add on that he was also at fault for.  Was Logan asking a trick question?

“Well, why else wouldn’t it be?” He finally settled on, “it isn’t Patton’s.”

“While I also agree it wasn’t Patton’s, I don’t see how it is yours.”

“Are you serious?” Virgil glared at him.

“I think you know the answer to that question,” Logan responded, gesturing towards his necktie, “But again, I ask. What makes you think what happened tonight was your fault?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Virgil said, snorting, “when things go bad, it’s always my fault. I shouldn’t have gone through that alleyway and inconvenienced you guys. I shouldn’t have taken up Remy on the job offer and I definitely shouldn’t have came here tonight. ”

“Virgil,” Patton withdrew far enough so that the other could see his face, “don’t you ever talk bad about yourself!”

“But--”

“I WILL PHYSICALLY FIGHT YOU!” Patton screeched before hastily adding, “WITH LOVE!”

“Okay geez, Pat, I get the point.” Virgil murmured, wincing at how the other practically yelled into his ears.

“Sorry,” Patton sheepishly apologized, ducking his head.

“While the volume of Patton’s message was excessive, he is right. It is true in some circumstances when things go wrong it is one’s fault, but many times the circumstances of a situation is out of one’s control. Therefore, it is impossible for you to be at blame for every bad situation.”

“Sounds fake but okay.” The words choked up in Virgil’s throat.

“What he’s trying to say, kiddo, is that you shouldn’t blame yourself every time something bad happens. That’s a burden no one should carry.” Patton said, adopting a serious dad voice.

“Besides, if we were to arbitrarily place someone at fault, it’d be Roman. He was the one to throw you into a dark basement. It’s only natural that you panicked when he yelled, fearing you’d relive the same situation again.” 

“You’re saying...that it wasn’t stupid that I panicked?” 

“No, of course not.” Logan responded gently. “I’m saying it was a perfectly understandable reaction.”

Virgil stiffened, his mind reeling. Logan couldn’t possibly mean that--could he? All throughout his growing up years teachers and foster parents told him he simply overreacted. His parents had said otherwise, but well, they were his parents. They were probably morally-obligated to say stuff like that.

“Virgil, bud, you okay?”

He looked up at Patton’s and Logan’s concerned gazes. Instantly his doubts crumbled as sobs unwillingly wrenched from his throat. Patton drew him into his arms again, whispering encouragement as he massaged Virgil’s back. Logan quietly kneeled beside them, supporting Virgil with his grounding presence.

-

He didn’t see Roman for awhile after that incident. He met with Patton and Logan outside of their house. Logan, of course, he saw nearly every day. Except for a few days in which he was absent. Logan was a workaholic who never took a day off if he could help it.

However, he always absent a few days of the month. It was never the same days—they shifted from month to month, apparently. He learned that from speaking to one of the other librarians. Logan never discussed what he did those days, but Virgil suspected it had something to do with werewolf business.

Virgil saw Patton a few times a week. It’d become something of a norm for Logan, Patton and Virgil to have lunch together. Sometimes he brought a homemade lunch to the library and they ate it in Logan’s office. Other times they visited Thomas’ place.

It was weird to say, but for once in his adult life, Virgil had friends. That thought alone terrified him. He’d grown accustomed to being lonely. He resigned himself to the fact. Now, he didn’t know if he could afford losing them.  He didn’t know if he could survive without that comradery again.

He wasn’t just talking about Logan and Patton either. Remy practically took one look at him and decided they were going to be best friends. They rarely hung out outside of shifts. But when they did, it was always a wild time. Remy was such a wildcard, that Virgil was lowkey convinced he was a minor god of chaos.

That was the other thing, he let slip that he knew of Remy’s inhuman origins. Remy was more amused than worried about how Virgil knew. He became even more amused when Virgil ended up revealing the backstory of how he met Patton and the others. Still, he refused to tell Virgil what he was exactly. This led to a guessing game between the two.

“Fae?”

“If I was a fae, you’d be in big trouble.”

“Siren?”

“Gurl, you’ve been with me to karaoke night,” Remy glanced at him over his sunglasses, “I may look pretty, but you and I both know I don’t have the voice of an angel.”

“True, but what if you’re merely faking being terrible at singing to throw off suspicion?” Virgil proposed.

The two stared at one another before bursting out in laughter.

“What else do you got for me, hon?”

“Hobbit?”

Remy let out an offended gasp.

“I can’t believe this. This is a freaking outrage. First off, if anyone’s a hobbit it’d be you. Second, I don’t appreciate the implication of having unusually hairy feet and third off, they don’t even exist!” Remy said, emphasizing his points with hand gestures.

“Eh, it was worth a shot.” Virgil smirked, as he scrolled further down the list on his phone.

Of course, the fun of the guessing game came to an end when Roman confronted them one early evening. The two of them were on their way to the university. Some college event was going on, and Remy somehow convinced Virgil he’d be fine sneaking into it.

Virgil, naturally, was anxious. This anxiety went sky high when Remy said in a conversational tone, “Don’t look now but there’s someone following us.”

Virgil did his best to fight the urge to look back, even allowing to Remy to drag him into an alleyway to confirm his suspicions. He hadn’t been in an alleyway since the mugging. Couple steps in, Remy turned around and snarled at the stranger,

“What do you want with  _ us _ ?”

Which was not the route Virgil would’ve taken. He’d either ran to the nearest police station or enter a public area. Not confront the possible axe murderer. Great. Now they were going to die.

The stranger did not turn tail and run, as Virgil hoped he would. Instead he haughtily approached them with a swagger in his step. It wasn’t until he drew closer that Virgil recognized the figure. Roman.

“Wh—have you been stalking me?” Virgil demanded, furious.

“Virgil, step away from him.” Roman said, his eyebrows furrowed, “you don’t know what he is.”

Was Roman actually showing…concern for his safety? That just felt odd coming from the werewolf who hated his guts. He was sure he’d be dead if it wasn’t for Patton and Logan. Look, Virgil understood that Roman had a valid reason to hate him, he really did. He was part of the race that systemically hunted paranormal beings like werewolves out of fear and hatred.

But one would think that hatred would deteriorate after seeing Virgil meant no ill will to him or the others.

In any case, he wasn’t in the mood to trust Roman. Especially since Remy wasn’t a violent person by nature. At his most destructive, Remy played mostly harmless pranks. Like covering someone’s car with sticky notes or setting all the clocks an hour ahead. Whereas Virgil had been threatened repeatedly by Roman.

“I mean, I know he’s like you guys—”

“He’s not anything like us!” Roman cut him off, “he is a vile and black creature.”

“Is that so, sweetie?” Remy asked, not giving a shit. He seemed largely unimpressed at Roman’s attempts at intimidation.

“He’s a vampire!” He cried, as if that explained everything.

Virgil turned to Remy, “Is that true?”

“Uh yeah, I sure hope I am.” Remy said, before drinking from the contents of his ever-present Starbucks cup.

“Wait, you told me you weren’t!” Virgil said, “You said, and I quote ‘if I was a vampire, would I walk around in broad daylight?’”

“Can’t believe everything you hear, Virge,” Remy’s eyes gleamed with mischief, “I didn’t tell you because it was much more fun to keep you guessing!”

“See, Virgil!” Roman pointed at Remy, “He lied to you! You can’t trust vampires to tell the truth!”

“Oh, this old feud, really?” Remy rolled his eyes, “Hon, that tea is old—let it go.”

“What feud?” Virgil asked, confused.

“It’s complicated.” Remy said before Roman could launch into a tirade, “Anyways, is that the only reason you’ve been trailing us? Because you might be a cutie, but we have better things to be doing than standing around talking in an alleyway.”

Roman’s face blushed from the compliment before quickly distorting with rage, “Yes I do! You’ve seduced him into doing your bidding!”

“Wh—what?!” Virgil spluttered.

Remy chuckled, “No offense to Virgil—you’re an absolute doll—but he’s not my type. Besides, I prefer not to feed on humans I’m close with. It tends to make things messy,” Remy laughed again before pulling out his Starbucks Cup, “Here, take a sniff out of this, Were.”

Roman frowned, leaning forward to smell it, “That’s…animal blood isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh. We Vamps can sustain on any type of blood—except for your kind’s of course—it’s only the purists who insist on feeding solely off of humans. And hmmhmm I’ve stopped caring about what the High Elders think centuries ago.”

“Centuries?” Virgil echoed weakly.

“It doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t be hanging around him still!” Roman protested.

“Why do you care so much?” Virgil snapped, “if you think Remy is going to kill me, wouldn’t that solve all of your problems?”

Roman flinched, “Look, I suppose you wouldn’t get it since you’re human but I’m just trying to do the right thing here! Also, Patton and Logan would be mad if I left you wander with a random vampire.”

“Logan?” Remy’s eyes lit up with recognition, “Oooh! You’re that pup Logan’s told me about, Roman isn’t it?”

“You know Logan?” Roman asked incredulously.

“Duh. Remy works at the same library as Logan and I.” Virgil said.

“Logan lets you  _ work there _ ?” 

Roman looked like his eyes were going to bulge out of his head.

“Yes, because he,  _ unlike some people _ , sees the feud being ridiculous,” Remy rolled his eyes, “You know what? This is ridiculous. I can’t put up with this any longer, ciao!”

Before Roman could protest, Remy swung an arm around Virgil’s shoulder and led him away. Thankfully, Roman chose not to pursue them. He stood there, a spluttering mess of fury.

Remy sighed, “I don’t know about you, but I’m not in the mood for partying anymore.”

“Are you sick?” Virgil asked, “I don’t think I’d ever dreamed of you suggesting we skip out on a party.”

“Knock it off,” Remy playfully shoved him, “you know I’m always in the mood for partying, but I think we should talk, now that the cat’s outta the bag.”

“Okay sure.” Virgil shrugged.

“Gurl, don’t get too heartbroken about missing a party.” Remy said, jesting him. They both knew that Remy was the only reason Virgil attended any parties.

They sat on the rooftop of Remy’s dorm building and talked. Remy explained that there was a High Council over vampires who followed a strict code which in Remy’s opinion was outdated and nonsensical.

“Technically, we’re nocturnal creatures meaning our eyes are designed more to handle the darkness. That’s why I wear sunglasses all the time,” Remy tapped the frames for emphasis, “the sun doesn’t hurt us, but it can be painful if you go long periods without being in sunlight. The High Elders’ decree that it’s sacrilegious to roam during the sunlight, but like I said fuck the Elders.”

“Okay but there’s one thing bugging me,” Virgil began, “if you’re hundreds of years old, why are you attending college?”

“Because I was bored,” Remy shrugged, “I saw a flyer for the art program and thought it sounded cool, so I enrolled. Just because I’m technically immortal doesn’t mean I’m made of money, so that’s why I’m also working.”

“What was it like?” Virgil blurted out, “To live a hundred years ago? Did you ever meet any famous people like George Washington?”

“Gurl, I have a shit memory. I can’t recall what happens a week ago, how can you expect me to recall things from a hundred years ago?” Remy shook his head, “Never met any famous people, although I can tell about the time I thought I met Bob Ross!”

Virgil smiled as Remy launched into an embarrassing story of how he had to find out the hard way that Bob Ross had been dead for ten years.

“Imagine, if you will, that you’re shaking this man’s hand—babbling like an idiot about how much you admire him and then he has to tell you that a. he is not the man you’re thiking of, and b. that man has been dead for ten years by this point,” Remy chuckled despite himself, “I wanted to yeet myself into the sun I was so embarrassed!”

Virgil laughed, much happier to be hanging out on a rooftop than in a noisy room jammed full of people. He couldn’t see the stars sitting there in the middle of a city. But he could’ve sworn the sky was a little brighter with Remy at his side.


	5. Sneaking in the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan woke up the same as most mornings; a firm hand shaking him out of the hell his mind conjured up during his sleeping hours. Still as he swum up out of sleeping and towards consciousness, he fought the hand. He'd bit down on the forearm when a voice stopped him.
> 
> “Logan—it’s me.”
> 
> Patton.
> 
> He blinked, staring up at the other. He laid beside Logan, breathing and looking very much alive. Logan briefly gazed past Patton to see Roman still in the throes of sleep, also alive and breathing. Silently he withdrew his teeth, but still feverishly clung to Patton’s arm. Tears still stung his eyes unwillingly. Normally he was better adept at refraining from crying. But it seemed this one got to him more than usual. How strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was once again, beta'd by the lovely Acantha_Echo, who helped not only pointing out grammar and consistency errors, but also helped me in plotting out this chapter and the next upcoming few ;)
> 
> Also! There will be an update next week on October 27th and then this fic will be going on a hiatus for the entirety of November as I will be participating in Nanowrimo. Rest assured, however, that I will still be working on this fic during November for Nanowrimo <3
> 
> Chapter title taken from "The Wolf" by Siames
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of blood, crying, implied abuse

Logan woke up the same as most mornings; a firm hand shaking him out of the hell his mind conjured up during his sleeping hours. Still as he swum up out of sleeping and towards consciousness, he fought the hand. He'd bit down on the forearm when a voice stopped him.

“Logan—it’s me.”

Patton.

He blinked, staring up at the other. He laid beside Logan, breathing and looking very much alive. Logan briefly gazed past Patton to see Roman still in the throes of sleep, also alive and breathing. Silently he withdrew his teeth, but still feverishly clung to Patton’s arm. Tears still stung his eyes unwillingly. Normally he was better adept at refraining from crying. But it seemed this one got to him more than usual. How strange.

It was just the same as the others. There was blood everywhere and—

He whimpered, digging his head into the crook of Patton’s neck. He breathed deeply, letting Patton’s scent intoxicate his nostrils. It reminded the more wolfish part of him that he was safe, he was with Pack and he was far away from any danger.

“Oh, Logan.” Patton whispered, almost on the verge of tears himself. He slung his other arm around Logan, drawing him into a protective hold. He rubbed circles into Logan’s back, causing the other to slack in his hold.

He almost fell back to sleep when his alarm on his phone for work blared. Logan startled, leaving the comfort of Patton’s arms to shut it off. Thankfully Roman was a heavy sleeper and laid there unperturbed by the noise.

Logan moved to put on his glasses when something tugged him back towards the bed. He jerked back to see Patton gazed at him with a hint of worry in his eyes.

“Logan, please. Take the day off—call in sick.”

He snorted, “Patton, I can’t just call in sick—that would be lying.”

“It’s been getting worse, hasn’t it?” Patton questioned quietly.

“I—yes,” Logan sighed, closing his eyes. As much as he wanted to deny it, Patton was annoyingly good at detecting his falsehoods. “However, they’re only dreams, Patton. Nothing more.”

“Maybe it’d be best for you to spend today in the basement?”

“And lose another day to  _ it _ ?”

Patton winced, “Logan—”

“I know,” He interrupted, turning away before softly adding, “Don’t worry, Patton. I will be fine.”

Logan placed on his glasses and left the bedroom. It was technically Patton’s room, but the three of them often slept in the same bed together. Part of it was instinctual—it felt natural to practically fall asleep in a dog-pile fashion. It was better to sleep with packmates and feel protected rather than asleep alone and defenseless. The other part was just common sense. The three of them all suffered from nightmares—although they plagued Logan the most. By sleeping together, it ensured one was quickly soothed from a nightmare by the other two.

He tried his best to get his mind off the nightmare as he drowned himself in routines. Logan liked routines—they were logical and concise and comforting. He dressed and officially began the day as he always did with a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He then proceeded cook himself a serving of scrambled eggs. He chucked in nearly a whole carton of eggs, feeling particularly ravenous today.

Werewolves’ appetites tended to be larger than humans and Logan was no exception. He did his best not to wolf down his scrambled eggs—no pun intended, of course. Once he finished his meal, he laid the coffee mug and dishes in the sink before filling his travel mug of coffee.

Logan proceeded to gather his things for work before getting in car to make the commute to the library. He turned on an audio book, letting the narrator’s words create white noise for his mind. Typically, Logan didn’t mind the drive there. But today he couldn’t wait to throw himself into his work. As head librarian, Logan was always busy with scheduling, meetings and making sure the day-to-day operations of the library ran smoothly.

He walked into the serene library, taken in the sight of books upon books with a satisfied smile. He could never grow tired of seeing so much knowledge harnessed in one place. He strode towards the front desk, noticing that only one person was manning it rather than the usual two or three. Who was it that was assigned front desk this morning? Jericho and Virgil, wasn’t it?

“Hello, Jericho,” He greeted the library assistant manning the front desk, “is Virgil here yet?”

The other shook his head.

“Odd,” Logan muttered. It wasn’t too much of a big deal. Logan himself had come in late five minutes late due to traffic. Not many students perused the library during the early hours, meaning they should have enough coverage until Virgil arrived.

But he found it odd because Virgil was usually a stickler to arriving on-time to his shifts. He even arrived before Logan, a feat not easily accomplished. Even when he was going to be a minute late, the latter shot Logan a text message relaying that. So, it was indeed odd that Virgil was both late and had not alerted him.

‘ _ You’re over analyzing it, Lo.’ _ Logan’s inner Patton chastised him,  _ ‘Maybe he overslept! There’s no need to worry, he’ll probably be here any minute.’ _

Except a minute passed past, and then another until it was nearly a half hour with no sign of Virgil. He attempted calling Virgil’s phone with no response. Logan frowned, thrumming his fingers against his desk.

If he was Roman or Patton, he might’ve been ridiculous enough to march straight up to Virgil’s apartment and check on him. But he was Logan—cold, analytical Logan. He remained in his office and tried looking over paperwork. But his thoughts kept spiraling back to Virgil.

Why was he so concerned by Virgil’s absence? It was true that Virgil was more than an employee to him; he was a…friend. It’d been literal decades since Logan considered anyone outside of the pack as anything but mere acquaintances. It was safer to keep everyone an arms’ length away. Logan had never been great at socializing before it happened. But afterwards…it made things easier if he didn’t have friends.

Logan planned to keep things that way, until Virgil came along. He proved Logan wrong by keeping quiet when he could’ve easily spilled the beans. It wasn’t often that Logan admitted when others had proved him wrong.

This was an instance he was happy to be proven wrong in. Virgil was a breath of fresh life to the group dynamic. He shared Logan’s more realistic view of life along with a quieter demeanor compared to Roman and Patton.

A quieter demeanor that was not to be had when Virgil burst through his office door, the force almost knocking the door off its’ hinges. For a human of his stature he was surprisingly strong.

“LOGAN!” Virgil panted, placing his hands on his kneecaps, “I’m—I’m so sorry!”

“Did you run the whole way here?” Logan asked, astonished.

Virgil nodded, lacking the breath to respond verbally. He swayed from side to side, looking about ready to topple over from the exertion.

“Please, take a seat.”

Virgil gratefully sat down without protest. Logan waited until it had seemed like the human had caught his breath before he spoke again.

“I assure you that you’re not in trouble, Virgil. I’d just like to know what were the events that led to you being late today? It’s unusual for you to be late and if you are, you are usually good at contacting me.”

Virgil hung his head low before reaching into his jean pocket and plopping an object onto Logan’s desk. Something that once resembled a phone stared back at him, in pieces. Logan frowned, touching the jagged edges of what was once the phone’s motherboard.

“My ro—I mean I accidentally dropped my phone on--uh cement last night, and it broke. That’s why I couldn’t contact you,” Virgil murmured, looking away from Logan, “I overslept my alarm. It won’t happen again, I swear and—"

“I believe you.”

“Wait, really?” Virgil looked up at Logan.

“Of course,” Logan rose an eyebrow, “why wouldn’t I? It isn’t as if you have a history of consistently arriving to work late, in fact it’s quite the opposite.”

“Thank you.” Virgil gave a relieved smile, grabbing his broken phone to shove it back into his pocket. As he did so, something caught Logan’s gaze. There was a rather conspicuous bruise on the human’s wrist. A bruise that happened to be roughly the shape of a human hand.

Detachedly Logan noted there was a growl that rose from the back of his throat. The wolf in him was agitated at the sight of Virgil’s injury. Someone hurt him, and he wanted to tear them apart limb by limb—

“Dude, Logan, are you okay?” Virgil regarded him with worry in his eyes.

“Virgil,” He began, ignoring the human’s question entirely as he made eye contact with him, “who gave you that bruise?”

The other’s attention snapped towards his wrist, panicked. He frantically tugged on his hoodie sleeve, hiding the bruise from view.

“Nobody!” He yelled, “I mean, I just accidentally hit it against a door frame that’s all.”

Virgil turned to leave, before freezing in horror at the fact he’d just snapped at Logan. The latter who happened to be his boss, and a werewolf.

“I’m—I’m sorry I didn’t mean to react that way—I’m just—”

“It’s okay,” Logan said before huffing, “Virgil, I hate to be redundant, but are you sure it wasn’t something  _ more _ ?”

“Yes,” Virgil responded after a pause, looking away, “I am sure.”

He scurried out of the office after that, leaving Logan alone in his office once more.

The head librarian looked down at the mound of papers on his desk, scowling before shoving them off to the side. He doubted he’d get much work done today. Not when his emotions were in such turmoil.

Emotions—the bane of his existence.

His heart remained clenched in his chest as he thought about the bruise on Virgil’s wrist. It wasn’t the first time he’d come into work with an odd bruise or two. Logan had been dismissive of them, especially with the way the human scaled up bookshelves before he’d been gifted with his own step stool. For such an anxious individual, Virgil had little regard for his safety at times.

When he caught sight of that bruise, however, he suddenly had a sinking suspicion all the other times before hadn’t been accidents. The best way to approach the situation would’ve been to be calm yet discreet. Instead, Logan uncharacteristically allowed his emotions to overcome in the moment. He likely spooked Virgil with his tactless approach.

It was not the first time Logan bemoaned the fact he was not a being that functioned by pure logic alone. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.

It was natural for Logan to have felt worry at the sight of the bruise, but it was deeper than that. he saw that purple splotch and a surge of fierce protectiveness overtook him. It was like he saw it and he imagined Roman or Patton in Virgil’s place instead. It was like—it was like—

It was like Virgil was pack.

But that was impossible. There was something in werewolf biology that drove them to form packs with their own kind alone. It’d probably been something that came out of a need for survival. There was safety in numbers after all.

However, his pack was no longer just Patton and Roman but Virgil as well. It didn’t make sense. Virgil was a human with not even a whiff of magic on him. Yet it, dare he think it,  _ felt  _ right _.  _ Somehow, the human crossed the threshold from friend to packmate. A feat not easily accomplished.

Their pack was hardly the model werewolf pack. Lycanthropes tended into amass in groups of fifteen or more with a distinct hierarchy. Each one had a role in the pack in order for it function optimally. Or at least, that had been the norm. It had become harder and harder for traditional packs to survive in the last century and a half.

It grew easier to survive for werewolves to survive by splitting into smaller groups or splitting up completely. Traditional packs that refused to change met their fates at the hands of humans.

The need for hierarchy still remained ingrained in werewolves. Even in Turned Werewolves like Logan, whose entire genetic composition was rewritten from that of a human’s. This was difficult for Logan, Roman and Patton who had no clear leader among them.

However, perhaps what was more important than hierarchy, was the sense of pack. While customs and ideals wildly varied depending on the packs, the importance of packmates was a constant throughout all packs.

In many ways, werewolves considered a pack bond to be the strongest of all loves. There was a running theme in werewolf mythology where romantic love brought upon tragic ends. Often romantic love desecrated pack bonds—and to break a pack bond was the greatest sin of all.

Pack bonds were something frustratingly hard to simplify into words. It was a bond that couldn’t be contained in simple words like friendship or familial—it was something more intimate yet chaste all the same. It was instinctual. It was a feeling.

As much as Logan denied otherwise, he didn’t handle feelings well. He fell into the unfortunate habit of repressing them. But as irrational as this feeling was, he couldn’t ignore it. Especially considering Virgil could potentially be in a toxic situation.

While it was true that Virgil denied Logan’s inquires twice, Logan had evidence to believe he was far from telling the truth. The way he panicked at the first question for starters. His first inclination had been to hide the bruise from view. The way he delivered his response to the second question had been slow and stilted. While signs of deceit fluctuated depending on the person, drawn-out speech was a big red flag.

Logan gave an exasperated sigh, thrumming his fingers across his desk. His instincts screamed at him to find out what was causing Virgil strife and kill it. He was angry that someone thought they could get away with hurting the human without consequences—

The rhythm he tapped against the desk was abruptly ended when one of his fingernails caught on the wood. He glanced down to see in his agitation he’d unconsciously started transforming. Where there were once clean, freshly trimmed fingernails, sharp, mangled claws took their place. His fingers had started the process of melding together to form paws. His gaze moved upwards toward his closed but unlocked office door.

He scrambled over his desk, the mountain of papers toppling like an avalanche. Once the door was securely locked, he slumped against the door, his breathing erratic.

Maybe Patton was right, he should’ve taken the day off. It was clear that the nightmare rattled him up more than he’d presumed. It was unusual for him to be this volatile. For now, however, he needed to stop hyperventilating.

_ In for four, hold for seven, out for eight _ .

It took several more tries than he’d like for his breathing to return to normal. Once the rise and fall of his chest resumed a steady cadence, he looked at his hands once more. He concentrated, and his claws slowly reverted back to fingernails once more. Pain erupted from the process and he withheld a scream.

It only been a partial transformation, but it exhausted him. They always exhausted him. He leaned his head back against the door. His eyes grew heavy and soon after that he was unable to keep them open for any longer.


	6. That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sweet aura filled the room as Patton opened up the vanilla extract. He grinned, bringing the bottle close to his nose, breathing it in deeply. He learned from experience not to attempt drinking the liquid. Its’ sweet scent was a deception to its’ bitter taste. He wasn’t sure why cookie recipes called for such a bitter liquid; but he knew by now that it was better to adhere to the recipe rather than omit things like vanilla extract.
> 
> He pulled out the measuring spoons and did his best to put in the correct amount into the bowl. He set aside, both the spoons and the vanilla extract, to start mixing up the batter. Rather than whip it up with a purpose, he mindlessly stirred the batter. Patton’s eyes glazed over, the events of the morning still fresh on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Acantha_Echo for beta'ing this chapter like always <3
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Arguing, Crying, Abuse Mention, An Obscene Amount of Patton Puns

A sweet aura filled the room as Patton opened up the vanilla extract. He grinned, bringing the bottle close to his nose, breathing it in deeply. He learned from experience not to attempt drinking the liquid. Its’ sweet scent was a deception to its’ bitter taste.  He wasn’t sure why cookie recipes called for such a bitter liquid; but he knew by now that it was better to adhere to the recipe rather than omit things like vanilla extract.

He pulled out the measuring spoons and did his best to put in the correct amount into the bowl. He set aside, both the spoons and the vanilla extract, to start mixing up the batter. Rather than whip it up with a purpose, he mindlessly stirred the batter. Patton’s eyes glazed over, the events of the morning still fresh on his mind.

Logan always suffered the most when it came to nightmares. But lately, it seemed as though they were getting worse. Patton hated seeing him suffer like that. More than anything, he wished he could take on Logan’s inner demons on for him.

It was his duty to look after and protect the others, but he couldn’t fight what wasn’t tangible. The best he could do was combat it with love. He did his best to comfort Logan and make him understand that he would be there for him, always. 

A pair of hands obscured his vision suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Guess who?” A voice playfully growled.

Patton’s lips broke into a smile, “Roman!”

“The one and only,” Roman boasted, moving his hands away from Patton’s eyes. He placed them on his hips, a striking a rather heroic pose.

Roman had grown a few inches today with the help of his neon rainbow platform shoes. His natural height was 5’8, which meant he only came to about Patton’s shoulder. It was a sore spot for the young werewolf, although he couldn’t deny that he loved being bridal carried by the other.

“How was your theatre class at the community center?” Patton hummed, as he dipped his finger into the cookie batter to taste it. It was still missing the dry ingredients, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t still delicious in all its sugary glory.

Logan disapproved of Patton eating raw cookie dough, even though as a werewolf he was immune to the effects of salmonella.

Roman’s eyes darkened, his hands falling by his sides.

“The local community theater director approached me again,” He murmured, “They offered me a role in the upcoming holiday show.”

“Roman…” Patton said, at a loss of words to comfort him.

Roman loved performing in front of others. He loved getting immersed in a story. He loved regaling Patton and Logan of the tales his birth pack had told for generations. But it was near impossible for him to take part in a show. The theatre world expected its’ performers to take part in every rehearsal and show. It saw absences as practically inexcusable. For a werewolf who was at the mercy of the moon’s rays, this made things rather difficult.

“It’s  _ fine, _ Patton, I—” Roman paused, the contents of the counter top behind them catching his attention, “wow, that’s a lot of cookies.”

Patton followed his gaze, swallowing. How long had he been baking? He could’ve sworn that the current batch was only his second. But the amount of cookies littering the counter top was enough to feed a small army.

A gentle weight settled on Patton’s shoulder. He looked back to see that Roman placed his hand there.

“Patton are you doing alright?” Roman asked, his eyes wide with concern.

“I’m fine!” Patton chuckled, nervously wringing his hands together, “I just got carried away and—”

The words died on his lips as Roman enveloped Patton into his embrace. Patton sighed, hugging back just as fiercely. Of course, Roman was able to see through his facade.

“Please, tell me what’s troubling you,” Roman whispered as he withdrew from the embrace, “tell me and I’ll kill it for you.”

“Now kiddo, violence isn’t always the answer,” Patton chided, reaching a hand down to caress Roman’s chestnut locks, “besides, it isn’t that type of problem.”

“What is it?” Roman asked, tilting his head to look up at Patton.

“It’s Logan. I’m worried about him,” Patton said, “It’s late and he still hasn’t come home yet.”

“I’m sure he lost track of the time—you know how he gets,” Roman said, rolling his eyes, “as much as he gets on me for overworking, he’s the worst at taking his own advice.”

Patton shook his head, “It’s more than just that. He had a nightmare last night—a bad one.”

Roman’s face softened in understanding. Logan had a bad habit of drowning himself in his work to try and forget things. Once he didn’t leave the library until two am in the morning.  Something that had freaked both Patton and Roman out. Since then, he was diligent in letting them know if he was working late that night.

“Has he contacted you at all?” Roman asked.

Patton silently shook his head. Roman frowned.

“If you want, we can go and retrieve him. Drag him by the ears if he refuses.” He suggested.

Before the two could go to such drastic measures, the front door knob jiggled. They watched in anticipation from the kitchen as the door swung open. Logan stumbled in, catching hold of the door frame to keep himself from falling over. He looked exhausted, with messy hair and his dress shirt wrinkled and untucked. His tie hung loose from neck.

“Logan!” Patton gasped, running from the kitchen to greet him.

“Patton—” He managed to say before the other swept him up in a hug. Patton always hugged him when he returned home from work. Usually he’d brush him off, making a comment about how they’d only seen each other eight hours prior. But today was different.

Today, Logan stiffened, before hugging Patton back just as tightly. Logan trembled, causing Patton’s heart to ache. Something had happened today at the library. He knew he should’ve pushed harder for Logan to stay home.

A second pair of arms wrapped around Logan from behind, secure and strong.

“We got you, Lo.” Roman whispered.

Logan calmed at those words, the tremors ceasing as he remained sandwiched by the others’ embrace. They held onto each other for only a minute. But to each of them it’d felt like an eternity. None of them except perhaps Patton would admit it, but all of them had needed that hug.

“I apologize—I didn’t mean to stay late—"

“Don’t sweat it, Loganrithm.” Roman waved him off.

He blinked, “but I failed to notify you—I know I must’ve caused you two some worry.”

“You did,” Patton affirmed, “But you’re here now and that is all that matters.”

“I see,” Logan said, the corners twitching upwards. It was almost a smile, but not quite.

“It sounds all of us could do with some cheering up,” Roman said, clapping his hands together, “and I know the perfect solution to that!”

“And what is that?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A movie night, of course!”

Patton let out an excited whoop. However Logan frowned, crossing his arms.

“It’s late. I have work in the morning—” Logan paused, catching Patton’s stern gaze. He quickly amended his speech. “But I suppose I can take tomorrow off. However, there is something I need to discuss with Patton— _ alone _ .”

Roman pursed his lips, clearly hurt to be left out of the impending conversation. He looked about ready to protest, when Patton laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey kiddo, why don’t you set up the movie while Logan and I go talk in the kitchen, mkay?” Patton grinned. His light and airy tone made it seem like a suggestion, but both Logan and Roman knew better.

“Okay.” The younger werewolf grumbled, turning away.

“Great!” Patton said, before walking towards the kitchen. Logan followed a few paces behind him.

As they rounded the corner, Patton’s abandoned cookie dough came back into view once more. Logan’s eyebrows burrowed at the sight.

“You’ve been…baking.” Logan observed. Both he and Roman knew what it meant when Patton baked in excessive amounts.

Logan was good at keeping his emotions concealed. It was something he’d inherited from Patton, unfortunately. Both of them were masters at it. Patton knew, however, from the slightest wobble in Logan’s voice, that he felt guilty for driving Patton to stress-bake. Something that Patton would have to be quick to remedy.

“You know me—I’m pretty _ nutty _ about my baking! You might even call me one  _ cookie _ baker.” Patton winked as he moved to clean up his mess from earlier. He placed the half-finished batter into a container to place into the refrigerator. Meanwhile Logan sat at the kitchen table, silently processing his words.

At last, Logan let out a groan, putting his face into his hands, “Ah, cookie—kooky. Thanks, I hate it.”

“Aw, Logan. Not even a _snicker_? I know you have a _chip_ on your shoulder about puns, but would you like to try some of my chocolate chip cookies? It might really—”

“Don’t—”

“ _Bake_ your day!” Patton laughed, offering a cookie towards Logan.

He took the cookie, not without a roll of his eyes. Patton smiled, watching from the corner of his eyes as he packed up the rest of the cookies to keep them from drying out. He could tell from Logan’s relaxed posture that he’d accomplished his mission.

“This cookie is…satisfactory, Patton.” Logan commented, a surprise lilt to his voice.

“Thank you! You could say that I got the recipe down  _ pat _ !” Patton said, beaming brightly at Logan’s words.

He knew that he wasn’t the best baker—even though Roman always praised his confectionery creations to the moon and back. Logan, however, praised sparingly—choosing to save those words for when he truly meant them. In Logan speak “satisfactory” meant incredible.

“Sooo, what is it that you wanted to talk with me about?” Patton asked, sliding into the chair next to him.

Logan’s eyes flickered towards the living room, before lowering his voice.

“It’s—it’s about Virgil.” He murmured, staring down at the remainder of his cookie.

_ Ah _ . Patton’s eyes widened in understanding. No wonder he’d wanted to keep Roman out of this discussion. The subject of Virgil was something the three tiptoed around. They had the argument concerning him too many countless times that they all agreed to disagree. It pained Patton, who wanted all of them including Virgil to get along. But after that ill-fated movie night, he knew this was for the best.

“What about my dark strange son?” Patton whispered back.

Logan gave him a look, “What? Patton, he is not your son—”

“—he’s just as much as my kiddo as you and Roman are to me.” Patton said, raising his eyebrow.

Logan, knowing better than to argue that front, sighed. He drummed his fingers against the table, a nervous tic of his. Patton reached out and laid his hand over Logan’s, causing him to stop and look at Patton.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently.

“Patton…is it possible for one to form a pack bond with a non-werewolf?”

A smile over took Patton’s face. He withheld a chuckle, knowing that it would only cause Logan to feel embarrassed. Logan placed a worryingly amount of self-worth into knowledge and intellect. It was something Patton tried coaxing him out of for decades. But it was hard when such things were formed as a coping method to traumatic events.

“Of course. Logan, you have always been my pack—even from before.” He squeezed Logan’s hand gently.

“I suppose that means you have a pack bond with Virgil, then?”

Patton nodded, “From the first day. Why did you think I wanted him to join the pack so badly?”

Logan’s face flushed, as he took his hand away from Patton’s.

“It all makes sense in retrospect,” Logan admitted, “but you’ve always had a heart for others. I didn’t see the situation as being anything other than that. Or rather, I theorized that as a possibility, but I didn’t truly believe in it. Pack-bonding is an instinctual drive that causes werewolves to seek out each other—it doesn’t make sense for werewolves to form pack bonds with other beings.”

“Things rarely ever make logical sense, Logan,” Patton reminded him, a pain burning in his gaze, “It’s true that pack bonds are normally amongst other werewolves but…we’re social creatures, Lo. If we can’t find solace among our own kind, then that drive causes us to seek out others.”

“Patton…” Logan murmured, the words drying up in his throat. But that was alright—Patton knew from a glance on his face what he failed to convey with words.

“It’s okay, I got you and Roman and even Virgil now.” Patton said, hastily wiping away tears with a sleeve of his hoodie, “but that isn’t the only way pack bonds are formed between a werewolf and another being. Sometimes it just happens organically. My…father formed one with my mother before she turned.”

A light bulb finally went off in Patton’s head.

“Logan…do you have a pack bond with Virgil?”

Logan nodded, running a hand through hair in a burst of frustration.

“I believe I do—there is no other explanation that I think of as to why I felt such a protective surge for Virgil’s safety…”

“Virgil’s safety?” Patton repeated, his eyebrows furrowing together in worry, “Logan—what do you mean?  _ Is he okay _ ?”

Logan winced.

“I meant to reveal that in a less blunt manner,” Logan murmured, “Listen. I saw Virgil at the library today. He appeared relatively fine. However, I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but there is some strong evidence that points to the contrary.

“What evidence?” Patton pressed.

“He came in late to work. He never comes in late or rather—if he does, he is quick to notify me. It…worried me,” Logan pursued his lips, “When he came in, he was rather distressed. I asked him why he failed to inform me of his tardiness, and he showed me his damaged phone.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, as he looked away for a moment.

“It wasn’t  _ just _ cracked. It was in  _ pieces _ , Patton.”

“Maybe he accidentally dropped it down a flight of stairs?” Patton asked hopefully, not liking where this was going.

“He told me he simply dropped it, but when he went to put it back into his pocket, I saw a bruise on his wrist,” Logan pursed his lips, “It wasn’t the first time I’ve seen a bruise on him. I’d assumed they were from his clumsy nature. But this one…Patton, this one was hand-shaped. After I saw it, suddenly all those others don’t quite seem like mere accidents to me anymore. I asked him about it and, well…”

“What did Virgil say?” Patton questioned, his own protectiveness for Virgil surging through.

He’d made a promise to himself at that alleyway that he’d look out for the human. Virgil had looked so small and vulnerable, he was only just a pup, after all. Now someone was possibly hurting Virgil and he’d broken that promise.

“He denied it of course,” Logan sighed, “He looked panicked at my accusation. If it’d been truly an accident, I don’t think he’d react in such a way. Patton, I think Virgil might be in an abusive situation.”

“With who?” Patton asked, eyes narrowing. He was ready to bolt out of his chair and race to Virgil’s rescue.

“I have a theory,” Logan said, hesitating, “but, I am not going to disclose what I think is going on.”

“What?” Patton blinked, “Logan—you said it yourself, someone’s hurting him. We have to do  _ something _ .”

“I  _ know _ ,” Logan said, his own face contorted in anguish, “but we could be jumping to conclusions. The best thing we can do right now, is to let Virgil know that we are there for him. If we force him to tell the truth or insisting he stays with us—”

“I—”

“will only make things worse,” Logan continued, giving Patton a pointed look, “Virgil is a very anxious individual. He does not trust easily. If we try to push him, we will break that.”

Patton gnashed his teeth together, “Logan, please, we can’t just let him suffer like that.”

“We won’t, as long as he knows he can come to us for support. Abuse victims struggle with admitting when they’re in a bad situation and trying to force Virgil to leave it, will only cause backlash. We can’t just swoop in and save the day. He has to come to the realization that he needs to leave. We can help with that, but we can’t force him.”

Patton simmered in his chair, mulling over what Logan had said. He still badly wanted to make a chew toy out of whoever was hurting his kiddo. But he also knew Logan was right. Virgil spooked easily. It wouldn’t be right to force Virgil, even Patton had good intentions.

“I don’t like it,” Patton muttered, exhaling deeply, “but I trust you, Lo. I’ll go along with it. But one whiff of them bringing mortal harm to Virgil and I’m out!”

“Thank you,” Logan said, before a small smirk wormed its way onto his face, “and don’t worry, if such a situation arises, I won’t be far behind you.”

Patton let out a strained chuckle, “I’m glad to hear it. It’s probably about time we head over to the living room. I’m sure Roman already has a movie picked out and everything.”

“I concur. Although I have no doubt that it’s Disney.” Logan mumbled that last part under his breath.

As the two rose from their chairs, they failed to notice a rather conspicuous shadow move and flee back towards the living room ahead of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wonder who that little shadow was at the end there ;)
> 
> REMINDER THAT THIS FIC IS GOING ON HIATUS FOR THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER. 
> 
> I'm participating in Nanowrimo in November, and I'll be working on this fic along with an assortment of others because I am a rebel. I'll see you guys again on December 1st! <3


	7. Update about the Fic

As you can see by the title alone, there is no new chapter today. I'd promised you guys there'd be one out today over a month ago and I sincerely apologize for breaking that promise. Little known secret about fic authors: the key to frequent updates is that most of the chapters are written weeks, even months before they see the light of publishing.  There's a crazy few who can manage a consistent update without resorting to that but most of us who manage consistent updates have several chapters already written before we start publishing the first. 

That was how I managed consistent updates for Gibbous, and I ran out of written chapters when I reached chapter 6. My grand plan was to use Nanowrimo as a motivator to write a ton of chapters and then get back to a consistent chapter update in December. But I hit a block on chapter 7 at the start of November and then I spent the rest of Nanowrimo writing for other projects, too frustrated at not being able to write pass it. Bless my beta Acantha_Echo for listening to my numerous angry rants on the subject, haha.

I could've just rushed out the chapter to you, but I wouldn't be satisfied with the results and I'm sure you guys wouldn't either. There's kinda a heavy topic involved with chapter 7 that I want to make sure I take my time and handle it in the right way. ~~This heavy topic is what caused me to hit a block and I kinda hate myself for including it in this fic for that reason haha~~

The good news is that on Thursday I was able to get in there and redo the chapter outline and start rewriting the chapter. I cannot promise there will be a chapter update next Saturday, but rest assured I'm not abandoning this fic. It is my goal to finish a multi-chapter fic and I feel like I could really do it with this fic. 

As much as this is disappointing for me and for you, I think...the break from writing this fic was really beneficial for me. I was getting sick of the fic despite how much love that I have for the universe I've created and it's hard to write something if you hate even just thinking about it. 

 

 **3/27/19 Update:** Since people keep asking...yes I do plan on continuing it. Life has been stressful and the days have been flying faster than I'd anticipated. Honestly, it feels absurd that five months have passed already without me updating this.  I can't promise a date, but someday--off, in the distant future, this will be updated. Currently 2k of the next chapter is written and I've written a decent amount of notes for the AU to help with my sanity, so I have not abandoned this project. It's just...taking a lot longer than either you or I would like.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me in the comments, kiddos ;)


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